


take your heart and go

by cryystal_m00n



Series: baby don't [1]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Humor, M/M, look my dudes, music journalist!jae, rapper!brian, read at your own risk my guys, this is a cringe fest tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 18:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13254027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryystal_m00n/pseuds/cryystal_m00n
Summary: jae is a music journalist who dislikes any up and coming hiphop acts. he likes, however, getting his paycheck. and that's why he finds himself at a concert of some lame ass weirdo whose stage name is young k.(or, i really wanted to write a rapper!brian ff but my writing is Shit. don't take a break from something like this for 5 years kids)





	take your heart and go

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i have written in over 5 years so it probably is bad. but pls have mercy, i really tried to not make it shitty. or, you can go and roast me and my writting skills in the comments, promise i won't cry

 

park jaehyung, ready to commit his first crime at the age of 25, gapes at his boss, hoping that what he had just heard was wrong.

 

“so, as i said,” the woman in front of him takes a sip of her coffee before continuing “since a lot of our readers have been asking for more stuff on the hiphop scene, and since the one who usually did this sort of thing had quit last month…” sunmi inhales, quickly finishing “you’re going to have to write something on that matter till the end of the week.”

 

jae curses jackson for deciding that the company he worked at was not good enough for him. damn jackson and his wish to be his own boss. why couldn’t he just stick to writing shitty articles about shitty music every week? he makes a note in his head to pay him a visit one of these days.

 

“you want me, the one who very clearly, very much so, critiques every single hiphop artist he sees, to make an article about exactly this subject?” he says the phrase as calmly as he can considering that he wants to stab sunmi, jackson and maybe himself with a pen.

 

“well, when you put it like that… look, i know you, jae. i know you are capable of doing this. so… are you in or do i have to ask sungjin?”

 

* * *

 

and that’s how, two days later, jae finds himself in a dirty club with jimin, waiting for some stupid wannabe rapper to start his stupid wannabe show. now, don’t get him wrong, he was more than happy that jimin managed to find him a gig to write about so quickly, but when she said that the guy, young k (who calls themselves that? you have the power to choose your own stage name and you go for young k?) is actually different from the rappers who write about money, fame and women, jae couldn’t help but snort.

 

he manages to make his way in the front just as a man appears on stage. jae swears that he wasn’t there when he looked a few seconds ago. maybe he is just drunk or maybe the guy is a wizard. either way, he takes him in and god, is he gorgeous? his black hair is styled to make him look like an idol (do rappers usually have idols come and open the show for them? jae wouldn’t know), his oversized hoodie makes him look 10 times more cuddly and his thighs, the journalist has just seen the 8th wonder of the world. and his face, lord have mercy on his gay ass. chubby cheeks that made him look even cuter, eyes that reminded jae of a fox (dude was probably as mischievous as one too), a pointy nose and his lips were something that the man could write cringey poetry about.

 

“hi everyone, my name is young k and this is _blood_.” the rapper introduces himself and then the most atrocious song jae has ever heard starts playing.

 

he takes it back. he takes everything back. he’s the ugliest man he has ever had the displeasure to lay his eyes on. all those black clothes he is wearing, what is he, an emo? he surely doesn’t want this young k to fuck him till he can’t walk, no sir, no.

 

he sits patiently through half of his set (he checks his phone every 2 minutes hoping, praying to anyone up there to make this traumatizing experience end) and he only whines to jimin four times. the girl also only punches his arm four times.

 

after enduring two more songs, he decides that there is no better time to start thinking about what he might write than in the middle of the concert. the writer takes his phone out and opens his notes, quickly writing some keywords that he knows he is going to use: boring, pathetic, does rap about his lover so there’s that, would rath-- the man realises that the music has stopped so he looks up from his unfinished sentence.

 

there he stays, young k, catching his breath, not looking hot as he wipes some sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. he hears and feels the girl beside him as she jumps and screams young k’s name and how much she loves him. the brown haired man takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and not tell her to stop being so desperate.

 

“i want to do something new today,” the rapper chuckles and even that sounds deplorable, not just his godawful verses, “if the cute boy with the glasses in the front, the one who clearly doesn’t want to be here, could come on stage, that would be great.” he finishes all with a smirk (that too, is ugly).

 

jae looks to his right, looks to his left and then frowns at young k.

 

“yes, frowny boy, you.” another smirk, who does he think he is?

 

he tries to get up there as slow as possible, hopes some spotlight would fall on him, killing him instantly, but alas, he gets to where the black haired man is standing.

 

“you have a name, pretty boy?” he shoves the microphone in his face and waits. did this asshole just get him in front of everyone to ask for his name? is this how kids flirt these days? well, might as well make the most of it.

 

“im jae. what’s yours, emo kid?” he hears some people laugh so he takes that as a win.

 

the artist takes the mic back and purses his lips, “young k.”

 

“i mean your re-”

 

“anyway, this is something that i’ve been working on, but,” he puts his hand on his heart and takes a step towards jae. the latter looks at jimin, sending her messages to save his skinny asss, however, that small traitor already has her phone out, probably recording his misery. “but when i was writing it i had someone like you in mind, angel face.” more people scream as the writer gags.

 

an upbeat melody starts, maybe tropical house, he isn’t sure. maybe if he tries to ignore the guy it will end sooner. jae crosses his arms and smirks. yeah, he’ll do that.

 

_I love every moment I’m with you_

_When I said that, you said it was corny_

_You pretend to hate it but you secretly like it_

_I see it in your smile, too great_

_Too Lifted_

_I’ll end up like Icarus_

_I wanna be by your side_

_Even if I burn black_

_I can’t help but to hold on, reason is_

_Cause I’ll miss you,_

_Too damn much_

 

the grin falls off his face halfway through the rap. he feels as if someone threw a ball at him, hitting him right in the stomach. fuck, this isn’t good, he needs to get out of here and maybe scream into the void for a few hours.

 

“you liked that, sweetcheeks?” was he always this close?

 

“it was… it was alright…” the brunette finally answers in a totally cool way.

 

the rapper leans in to whisper in his ear. “do you mind waiting for me backstage, pretty boy?” he can feel his smile and jesus, does jae want to punch it off (preferably with his lips)?

 

all he can do is nod, turning to go and wait for who knows how long. after two and a half minutes of staring into space, the journalist finally realises what had just happened. “fuck!” he almost kicks an amp that’s near him. this was supposed to just be a concert that he would forget of after writing about, not something that could presumably change his life.

 

inhale, exhale. jae can do this, he is going to tell the dude that he hates him and that he is going to write the worst thing possible on him. easy-peasy. inhale, exhale. he looks back at young k and thinks that maybe he is not that bad… sure, his songs are still horrible, but he wouldn’t mind waking up next to him, cuddling him on a rainy morning, kissing him awake and then stru-- jae slaps himself hard. he needs to get a grip on himself and stop with this nonsense.

 

he tries again to calm down in the fifteen minutes that he waits for the other to finish his gig (he tries, but he fails). young k comes backstage covered in sweat and drinking from some random water bottle (this also doesn’t affect him, not at all). he smiles at jae before heading his way.

 

“i’m brian, or younghyun, whichever works for you.” oh god he (his name is brian! that’s so lame yet so fitting!) is smirking again! that’s it, jae decides in that moment that he is going to fight brian.

 

“i’m jae,” he extends his hand but realises that he had already asked him “it’s short for jaehyung.” nailed it.

 

“well, jae,” brian somehow produces a pen (now jae is 95% he is wizard!) and takes his arm. he quickly pops open the button on his flannel sleeve and begins writing something. “as much as i would love to spend the rest of the night with you,” he winks now (his soul has just left his body) “i have to be somewhere else. but if you ever want to get coffee or something else, let me know. i hope to see you soon.” with that he turns and walks to where a guy wearing a choker is standing.

 

jae looks at the number written on his arm. he’s pretty sure that he could write something actually ok about brian. he’s screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> if you've made it this far, congrats and thanks for reading. also, sorry for what you had to endure
> 
> come scream with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cryystal_moon) or [tumblr](http://cryystal-m00n.tumblr.com)


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